


First of Her Name

by vehlr



Series: AU: First of Her Name [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nevarra needs an heir, and Cassandra is of the royal bloodline, whether she likes it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Dawn

The dawn is slow to rise in Nevarra. At the behest of the King, the heavy curtains are drawn back, the servants sent away as the sun breaks over the parapets. His advisors yet lie in their own chambers, unaware of his intentions. For the first time in many long, long years, Markus Pentaghast breathes easily in his bed.

“Your Majesty?” The scribe trembles in the corner. 

“I fear I have been a fool.” The wind catches the edges of the curtains, the cool breeze light on the clammy skin of the man who once ruled his country with a clenched fist. “Foolish for far too long. And I do not wish to die a fool.”

“Sire, your successor -”

“I do not wish to _die_ …” His words catch in her throat, and he waves a hand before continuing. “The girl. The girl in Ferelden.”

“Princess Cassandra? The Seeker?”

“Yes. She… she is free from all of this. She will not be a fool.”

“Sire, are you sure there is no better candidate? … Sire?”

Nevarra is beautiful in the morning light. Markus wonders exactly when he forgot this.

* * *

 

Dawn is equally slow to rise on Skyhold, but the fortress is already abuzz with activity. In the courtyard, messengers skirt around the recruits warming up for drills, the guard has already changed twice, and in the small room above the armory Varric Tethras rubs his eyes and yawns.

“Come on, the bed’s still warm,” he entreats.

At the other end of the room, Cassandra Pentaghast rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “ _Varric_.”

“It’s not even morning. It’s pre-morning. It’s -”

“Bullshit.”

“My thoughts exactly!”

“No, _you_ are bullshit,” she points out, “and do _not_ give me that look, you know you agreed to this. Get out of that bed and put some clothes on.”

He grumbles, a low rumble in his throat as the sheet is thrown back. “Yeah, yeah, I just hate that you have to set off so damned early.”

“Varric…”

“You know, when _I_ go on a mission for the Inquisitor, _I_ set off at a reasonable hour. I’m just saying, is all. _I’m_ considerate.” He stretches, arms high above his head as the watery morning light warms his feet.

She cannot help the smile on her lips as she saunters back to the bed. “ _Varric_ ,” she repeats, her tone deliberate.

He looks up at her as she cups his face. “What? What am I missing here?”

“I get up early every time I have to leave, and yet _despite_ your frequent distractions and our… satisfying goodbyes, I am never _ever_ late. How do you suppose I manage this feat?”

For a moment, the shock is just a little too much for him to bear. “You… you planned this? Of _course_ you did, you’re Cassandra Bloody Sodding Pentaghast. You planned this every time, you sly little -”

She laughs, pushing him back against the bed. “For a smartass, you are remarkably slow,” she teases, straddling him.

“Shit, I’m too busy being amazed that you’ve been playing me this whole time,” he chuckles, hands reaching up to pull her by the hips. “What else are you pulling?”

She leans down to nip at warm lips. “Shut up and you will see.”

As her hands travel south, he lets out a soft groan. “Oh, Seeker, _yes_ …”


	2. Part One: The Inheritance

The Hinterlands are considerably less dangerous when the Seeker and her party return. Leading the pack mules into the stables, she takes stock of the gains - enough wolf pelts and bear skins for the Inquisition’s latest requisition orders, and more information on the local militia’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as a new quarry location scouted out ready for the workers to start digging… _yes_ , thinks Cassandra with some small amount of pride, _it had been quite the productive trip_. Corypheus might have been vanquished, but there was still considerable work to do.

“Seeker Pentaghast?” The messenger shuffles in the doorway. “The Inquisitor would like to see you immediately.”

She nods, smiling slightly. “Of course.” The path is familiar, though it pulls at her heart as she passes through the hall, eyes looking for her lover. Perhaps he was at the inn - there would be time later to find him.

Pushing the doors open, she hesitates. The mood in the room is visibly dark. The Inquisitor stands from her seat awkwardly, a glint in her eyes that hints at tears unshed.

“Are you alright?” she asks, and Myra shakes her head slightly.

“Cassandra… we can fix this. We can -”

“What are you talking about?” She stiffens. “Did something - is Varric alright?”

“Varric is fine. However, I am not sure _you_ will be.” Josephine holds the scroll out to her, a strangely-sympathetic look on her features. “I think it would be best if you read it for yourself.”

The looping script immediately evokes a sense of distaste, but she reads on.

> _It is with solemn regret that the Kingdom of Nevarra announces the passing of the great and long-lived Markus Pentaghast, first of his name.  
>  His final act as King was to declare his sole heir and next ruler of the bountiful country of Nevarra - Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, first of her name. Long may she reign.  
>  Until the Queen ascends to the throne on All Soul’s Day, Lord Regent Vihlus Van Markham will preside over the court -_

The rest of the royal decree goes unread, the vellum slipping from her fingers. “No,” she breathes, “no… this is - _no_.” Her fists shake, her eyes flashing with such fury that the guards on the door shift.

“Leave us,” Myra instructs the guards, “and speak nothing of this matter.”

It is not until the doors have closed once more that the Seeker lashes out, sending the markers on the table flying with a loud cry. “How _dare he?_ How dare he call upon my heritage like a… like a dog?” She whirls around, her infamous scowl twisted with rage. “Have I not become _more_ than my birthright? Have I not _earned_ my freedom from their games?”

“Cassandra.” Josephine’s voice is soft, careful. “You have more than earned the right to choose your future. But -”

“But what?” interjects Cullen. “Please do not suggest it would be too much of a _slight to the nation_ for her to refuse. I am more than ready to put _that_ particular idea to the sword.”

“It is not as simple as that,” states the ambassador. “Nevarra is on the cusp of a civil war, a war that would ravage the land and spill out to the rest of the world. Cassandra, I do not ask you to take the throne for long, but take it you must, if only to ensure peace. Then we can discuss abdication and the appointment of someone else -”

“Abdicate? Josephine, I cannot.” Cassandra straightens, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Pentaghasts do not have the… right. It is -”

“A tradition, nothing more. There is no law, no legal -”

“Ambassador. _I cannot_.”

Josephine hesitates, her eyes calculating and careful. “Would you watch the people fall for your happiness, or sacrifice your freedom for the chance of peace?” she asks finally.

Cassandra does not answer, turning instead to the window. She swallows hard, her thoughts far away as she shakes her head. “I am more than my blood,” she murmurs, “but it is my blood that matters most, it seems.”

“There has to be a way around this,” says Myra finally, looking to her faithful advisors with some desperation. “This _can’t_ be it. We can’t just _accept_ that Cassandra has to go, can we?”

“The Nevarran representative will be here by week’s end.”

“Cullen, _please_ tell me we can -”

“Inquisitor.” Cassandra turns to face her, shoulders stiff but eyes kind. “Thank you, truly, for everything. I have been honoured to fight alongside you. But this is… this is my fight, and my responsibility. I must bear it myself.”

Myra looks like she might punch something herself, but swallows the feeling, nodding. “The honour was mine, Seeker Pentaghast.” And then she smiles, reaching for her friend’s hand. “The fate of Thedas, determined by women.”

Cassandra manages a laugh at that, short and halting as her own words are repeated back to her, and her fingers tighten around Myra’s. “I think your job might have been easier.”

“I’m so proud to be your friend, Cassandra. So unbelievably proud.” She gestures at the Commander and the Ambassador. “We all are. And we know you are more than your blood… now show Nevarra that.”

* * *

 

It is not until the rumour-mill has worked its magic that Varric finds out she is even back at Skyhold, never mind poised for greatness. Eventually, he finds her in the Chantry gardens.

“Seeker?”

She does not move. He takes another step forward.

“ _Cassandra_.”

“You only call me that when it is serious,” she murmurs, shoulders slumping as she turns her head to watch him. “So it is clearly not a bad dream.”

“You should have come and found me.” He smiles slightly. “I know a guy who knows a guy - well, I know Rivaini, and she has this assassin friend, and _between_ us we could probably -”

“There is no way out,” she sighs, holding a hand up to stop his train of thought. “I have gone over this in my head all day, and… there is no other choice, save a civil war that will endanger thousands and risk the region’s stability. No, it is… well, it is what it is. Nevarra requires a new monarch, and…”

“And it has to be you.” He feels his stomach drop away all at once, the terrible feeling of an ending he would never have guessed at. “Shit.”

“Quite.”

He sits next to her, leaning back on his hands. “Well. Didn’t see that one coming. You okay?”

She shrugs. “It is… not how I expected today to go,” she admits, and he chuckles at that. “I have no desire for this path ahead of me, but there is nothing to be done about my fate. Complaining seldom changes these things.”

“Seeker -”

“I will not even be that, not anymore,” she says, voice catching at the realisation, and he reaches out, pulling her gently into his embrace. “Varric, I cannot -”

“Sure you can,” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head. “You can because those people _need_ you, and that’s kind of what you’re best at - helping the people who need it. You’ll understand it, just give it a few days.” He rests his cheek against her head, fighting the urge to run. “Hell of a thing, Seeker. Give it time.”

“You always know what to say,” she whispers.

“Yeah, well… writer.” He swallows. “I tend to know how these stories play out.” _Badly,_ he finishes in his mind, _and desperately lonely. Again._


	3. Part Two: The Truth

The next morning, the problems begin early with passing the torch.

“No. This is ridiculous.”

Cullen resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Just hear me out. He’s the best candidate -”

“No, he is not. You would be _far_ better suited with Barris -”

“- Barris refused the position. You pushed him into it without asking him if he wanted the responsibility -”

“He was _more_ than ready!” She leans forward, passing him another report. “Besides, Carnellian is  more suited to field work.”

“I agree, but he is the best we have out of the candidates who want the role.”

“I will talk to Barris again -”

“No,” Cullen snaps, “you will _not_. I’ll talk to him and then I’ll heed his wishes because he is one of my men.”

She started to retort, but bites back the words, settling into her seat. “You are right. Forgive my tone, I -”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “There is nothing to forgive. I know this is hard for you. I am sorry it is necessary at all.”

“You have been a good friend to me, Cullen. Thank you for everything.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Says the woman who believed in me when I could see nothing of worth in myself. I owe you _everything_ , Cassandra. But this is not the end of the road for us - I will not allow it.”

She chuckles. “Stubborn.”

“You’d be surprised if I were not.”

Josephine clears her throat from the doorway. “Am I…?”

The Commander smiles. “No no, we’re just trying to agree on my new crutch.”

The Seeker rolls her eyes. “I am _not_ your -”

“Well, perhaps I can provide a distraction!” The Ambassador drops a letter into Cassandra’s lap. “You have a suitor, Lady Seeker.”

Cassandra grimaces, opening the letter. “This is -”

“Ridiculous,” finishes Cullen with a smirk. She glares over the letter at him, before offering it for his inspection. Cullen regards the message with a grimace, handing it back rather quickly. “I would rather not know what men would do for your hand,” he decides, turning his attention to other reports.

“Oh, but the gift is quite charming!” coos Josephine, holding out an intricate wooden carving for Cassandra’s inspection. It depicts the Maker’s Bride, looking disarmingly like Cassandra herself, in a contemplative state. She is calm and quiet as she regards the carving with interest, before bringing the delicate woodwork sharply over her knee. It splits with a resounding crack, and the pieces are tossed aside.

“Cassandra!”

“I am bound to the duty of my blood, but I will be _damned_ if I am forced to ignore the duty I hold to my heart.” she growls, balling up the correspondence.

“They will continue to come -”

“Consider them a donation to the Inquisition,” she states, standing suddenly. “I have no need for them. Now, if you will excuse me -”

Josephine chuckles. “Oh, go. No doubt you have much to… _discuss_ with Varric.”

Cullen snorts from behind his reports as the Seeker rolls her eyes, stalking out of the room.

* * *

 

He lingers at the window, watching the Iron Bull facing off against some foolhardy recruits. Writing had provided a good enough distraction for most of the morning, but he had hit a wall and now reality was creeping back into his mind, not aided by the lack of face-time with the Seeker. Not that that was terribly surprising - tasks to delegate, a whole new role to understand and prepare for, and - if the rumours were true, which they always were - countless suitors to consider.

His heart lurches into his stomach again. _Damned fool,_ he thinks, _you’ve done it again. Fallen for someone who can’t stay the course._

As if on cue, someone knocks at his door.

“Come in.”

And of course it was her, soft smile and awkward shuffling and _damnit Seeker just stop being so beautiful for five minutes -_

He pushes the thought away, aiming for nonchalant. “What’s up, Seeker?”

“I thought we might talk,” she offers. “We always said we would be open and honest, and… I have missed you.” She closes the door, and he smiles tightly as he turns to his desk, shuffling papers fruitlessly. “I know I have been busy with everything -”

“Seeker, it’s alright. I get it. They want to marry you off to some noble, right?”

“I - yes.”

“Not much room in that sort of life for someone like me.”

“I suppose not. But then again, I would not know. It it not the life I chose.”

He turns his head, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Oh?”

She sinks to the bed. “Varric, what _they_ want is not what _I_ want. I have made it clear that if I am to become their…” She falters at the word, waving her hand in lieu. “Well. It is to be done on _my_ terms.”

“So… no arranged marriage.”

“No. When I marry - _if_ I marry…” And the blush comes to her cheeks easily. They had not discussed a future, their future, not even before this royal business. “It does not matter. What matters is that I am leaving in a matter of weeks and I… I do not wish to leave this unsettled between us.” She smiles. “I… I would have you come with me, if you wished. You could be - well, whatever you wanted. I _love_ you, Varric, and I would be considerably… lessened, without you. But equally I would understand if - if you did not want this. It is a lot to take in, both personally and politically, and I do not expect you to make any rash choices -”

He laughs, an unexpectedly wonderful rich laughter from deep in his chest that makes her stop in her tracks. “Shit, Seeker, you’re so _serious!_ ”

“I - yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Composing himself a little, he finally moves towards her, smile gentle. 

“Because,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve faced down an explosion that tore a hole in the Fade, more bears than I’d care to count - though,” he adds, “I _have_ kept count, if you’re ever curious - a red lyrium archdemon, six dragons and an ancient Magister bent on sending us all to Maker-knows-where. And yet you think I’m going to leave you over a royal _title_?”

She rolls her eyes. “Varric, it is hardly that simple -”

“Isn’t it?” He takes her hand in his, warm and unshaken. “Because to me, it is - I love you, Cassandra Pentaghast, and I’m not going _anywhere_ without you. I just wanted to be sure _you_ were okay with that. And sure, your life’s taking a bit of a left turn, but honestly? This is the least ridiculous thing that’s happened to you lately.” He grins up at her as she laughs. “This is practically _retirement_ , let’s be fair.”

“With the machinations we will have to face? Everything so far will have been the honeymoon period,” she warns him.

“So we’ll face them. Together.” He squeezes her fingers. “I’m all in, Seeker. Always have been, with you.”

“Varric -”

“Besides, I’m in the _Merchant’s Guild_. I can run circles around those Nevarran diplomats in my _sleep_. You have nothing to worry about.”

She smiles, pulling him in closer. “Together?”

“Together,” he agrees, free hand reaching to cup her face as he murmurs against her lips, “your Majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read any of my other stuff, you'll know I have a... habit... of making these two suffer a little. And it was tempting to drag this out, the will-they-won't-they idea. But... that's not Cass, you know? She's not going to let that hang over them for longer than she absolutely has to. So hey! It can only be wonderful from here on out <3


	4. Part Three: The Preparations

“To the honourable lords and ladies of Nevarra, thank you for your time. It is my privilege to serve this country and its people, and - and… _ugh_ , this is ridiculous,” she groans, falling back against the bed. Varric looks up from the desk, eyebrows raising over the crescent-moon reading glasses.

“That was _fine_ until you gave up, Seeker.”

“I am not built for a life at court. I have been… I am not -”

“You were forged,” he suggests, turning his attention back to the book on his desk, “in battle and blood and faith.”

She rolls slightly to look at him. “This is _not_ one of your books.”

“No, nothing I could come up with would be this extraordinary.”

“ _Varric_ -”

“You don’t have to learn to curtsey or eat with the correct fork or any of that. You’re going to be in charge - even if you throw all their conventions out of the window, they’ll follow you.”

“But -”

He lets out a chuckle, pulling his glasses off as he looks up at her again. “Look, I’m sure when we’re actually there you’ll understand. But I’m looking at all these laws, and etiquette is _not_ a legal requirement.”

She smiles, resting her head on her hands. “My seneschal. Whatever would I do without you?”

“Let’s not find out.” He stretches, yawning. “Oh, one other thing - the Inquisitor wants to throw a feast for you - well, us, I suppose, but mostly you. She told me not to tell you, but I know you and surprises. Just don’t smirk if she sends you to Orlais on some ridiculous errand.”

Cassandra laughs. “I was mostly joking about the seneschal business, you know.”

He grins, finally leaving his research to join her on the bed. Hands planted either side of her head, he straddles her. “I can take care of… _every_ need you might have,” he drawls, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck.

“ _Oh_ \- Varric, please -”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

She laughs, hands running up his chest to tug at fastenings. “Must you call me that?”

He nips at her collarbone. “Gotta get used to it sometime.”

“But not - not with you.” Her hands still for a moment. “Varric, I… I want to remain on equal footing with you. I want to be your Seeker, not your Queen.”

He raises his head to meet her eyes. “Hey, come on. Like I’m ever going to let you boss me around again,” he laughs, the teasing gentle as he shifts his weight to stroke her cheek. “It’s alright. You’ll always be my Seeker, you know that.”

She smiles, leaning up to kiss him tenderly. “Yours, always.”

*

Just as he said she would, it is a matter of days before Myra summons Cassandra to head to Val Royeaux, a diplomatic mission to fulfill that could not wait. The Seeker is sent with a scout who insists on making camp with a look in her eyes that almost dares for a challenge. But Cassandra acquiesces with a wry smile, making a show of getting comfortable on her bedroll.

If a retinue passes them in the night, she does not hear.

* * *

 

Val Royeaux is timeless, in its way. Cassandra takes a deep breath before deferring to her companion.

“Where is the meeting point?”

She scrambles for her notes. “Uhh… the backroom of the inn, just ask the landlord for the key. You are to go in alone, so, uhm… I’ll wait out here, I guess.”

The Seeker smiles, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Very well. Thank you - this may well be my last envoy mission for the Inquisition, and you have made it extremely smooth.”

“O-oh! It was an honour, Quee-I mean, Lady Seeker.” She hesitates for a moment before offering a half-bow, scrambling away in a hurry. Cassandra chuckles as she heads in. She manages a frown as Josephine and Myra emerge from the room in front of her. “How did you -”

“Don’t question how Josie gets anything done,” laughs the Inquisitor. “Just… trust us, and sit down.”

Josephine offers the Seeker a slim roll of vellum, smile wide as she steps back. Cassandra sits, unscrolling the paper with care. Her eyes light up at the familiar handwriting.

“Varric? What…” 

> _Seeker,  
> _
> 
> _Before you start, technically I didn’t lie - our esteemed leader really was planning a huge send-off, but I’m hijacking it with her blessing… and a considerable amount of her squealing when I told her my idea. Seriously, she would not stop!  
> _
> 
> _Everything is changing for you - for us. And I’m concerned that you won’t be happy. I don’t care about the crown or the country, I care about you. I want to make you happy for every single day of your life, by your side, hand in hand. You make me want to be better, and… that used to scare the shit out of me, but now I’m not scared, because I know you deserve my very best.  
> _
> 
> _I love you, Cassandra Pentaghast, Slayer of 78 Bears. And I wanted to do this in person, but time’s a little short, so we’re doing this now before everything gets lost in that new life.  
> _
> 
> _Marry me?  
> _
> 
> _\- V.T._

She closes her eyes, burying her face in her hands, unmindful of the expectant faces beside her. “Oh. Oh, _Maker_.”

“Cassandra, it’s alright.” Myra rests a hand on her shoulder, kneeling next to her. “It’s a lot. Especially when it’s such a surprise.”

“Maker.” She emerges, red-cheeked and wry smile. “He’s going to be _insufferable_ for managing to keep it all a secret.”

The Inquisitor mirrors her smile, nodding. “Oh, definitely. But insufferable or unbearable?”

“Never unbearable, never. That man… _oh_ , what do I even say?”

“Say yes,” laughs Josephine, “and let me go and tell him.”

Cassandra nods, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. “Yes. Yes, Maker take him, yes.”

The Ambassador swoops down with a joyous giggle, arms wrapping around the Seeker’s shoulders. “Oh! This is wonderful! I’ll be back as soon as I can!” And with that she skips out to find the dwarf.

“Just wait until you see the dress.” Myra pulls her to her feet. “Vivienne was in charge, but Varric gave very strict instructions about what you wouldn’t like, and it’s so perfect for you, truly. And everyone’s ready to meet in the Chantry, he even managed to -”

“The dress? Wait, now? I’m… it is happening _now?_ ”

“Yes!”

“Oh. Oh, oh no. I need time, I need -”

“You need time to think, to process, to panic? No, you need to remember that feeling you just had.” Myra squeezes her fingers. “Cassandra, you love that dwarf with all your heart. You must do, you just said yes.”

“I -” And she stops, pulling her hands back as she takes a deep breath. “I do, truly. But… I wanted to tell Anthony. With everything that is happening, I have not been able to shake his presence from my mind, and… this is important. He would want to know.”

“Oh, Cassandra…”

“Is there a little time?”

Myra smiles softly. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I’ll be right next door.”

As the Inquisitor slips out the door, Cassandra closes her eyes, the familiar words of the Chant coming to mind as she sinks to her knees and clasps her hands together in silent prayer.


	5. Part Four: The Wedding

Varric is not nervous. Sure, there was a little lightheaded-ness, but that was more excitement than anything. He adjusts his collar slightly, looking up at his best friend. “Hawke?”

She rests a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing fine.”

“Thanks, but, that’s not -”

“Yes, it _is_ too late to back out. But you don’t want to, not really.”

“No, I -”

“She’s going to have your balls in a vice and you’ll thank her for it.”

“ _Hawke_ ,” he growls, and she laughs as he elbows her. “Shut up for two minutes and let me say thanks like a normal person.”

“You don’t need to, Varric. After everything we’ve been through? _I_ should be thanking _you_.” She nudges him right back as the congregation stands. “Showtime, pal.”

And for a wild moment as he shuffles back into the aisle, the enormity of it all bears down on him. Perhaps this was a mistake. He should have proposed like a normal person, face to face, with plenty of time to adjust to the idea - plenty of time to get out. Was this _really_ what they both wanted? With everything else -

“Maker’s breath,” Hawke murmurs, awed, and Varric turns to watch as Cassandra is brought up the aisle by Cullen. Without a second thought, the ridiculous fears vanish as he smiles at her. _Yeah_ , he thinks. _I’m doing fine._

The gown is everything he expected and more - simple elegance, a soft shade of purple draped over her shoulders and swooping down and around her, delicate silver jewellery adorning her upper arms. Tantalising glimpses of skin tease at his imagination. He swallows.

“You look… Seeker, you look -”

“Well, well. Varric Tethras, lost for words,” she laughs. “I should have married you long ago.” And there is something in the look she gives him that emboldens him as he takes her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“Damn right you should’ve.”

* * *

 

He stands on the chair, muttering darkly as the room finally realises he means to speak.

“Speech!” cries Isabela, grinning as the cry is picked up by each table in succession, and the dwarf rolls his eyes. He clears his throat, and the room falls silent, but for once in his life Varric does not feel the usual confidence that comes with reading his own work. Turning slightly, he looks down at his wife. _Shit. My wife._ The smile comes unbidden.

“You all know I’m not one for words -”

The laughter erupts, and it takes a good deal of gesturing for him to calm the room down again.

“- alright, so that’s bullshit. But I’m not usually one for words from the heart. I don’t… linger, not on the shit that matters. And you, Seeker… you really matter.” He clears his throat again, taking a moment.

“My heart beats clear, from darkness I did come,  
The Stone denied, the Prophet turned away,  
My life was quiet, long-lived under the sun,  
Family, friends, and words to fill my day;

A Champion came, my life was overturned,  
Through death and true living did I prevail,  
In flames my soul was scarred, and I was burned,  
Our lives were changed, as heroes we were hailed;

A Seeker came to find my dear friend Hawke,  
I could not know that this was just the start,  
And though the path was dangerous and fraught,  
The light in darkest times was her kind heart.

Lost in darkness I was, now found, I am  
Honoured by you, I vow to be your man.”

The room is silent, save for the soft intakes of breath from various people surprised by his words - or perhaps surprised by the fact such words had been uttered aloud. But he only has eyes for his woman, and the shock on her face is entirely worth the week of wrangling words to fit the form. He folds the page again, shrugging.

“Or something like that,” he offers with a smile, stooping to pick up his glass before directing his voice to the room. “Anyway, thanks for coming out, all of you. As you all know, Seeker’s about to become a queen -” The tension breaks as Sera lets out a whoop, the giggles spreading through the room with a ripple. “Thanks, Buttercup. Anyway, I think I can speak for both of us when I say thanks - to all of you. And not just for today. It’s been a hell of a ride getting here, but I’m glad you were all along for it.”

The room explodes with applause and he grins, bowing slightly as he  gets off the chair.

Cassandra’s mouth is open, covered with her hands as she manages a smile through the tears. “Oh - _oh_ , Varric -”

“Hey, come on, you’re not supposed to cry,” he teases, “you’re supposed to tell me to -”

“Shut up,” she laughs, burying her face in his neck to much amusement and cheering from their friends. “You wonderful idiot, _oh_ -” She pulls back, wiping her face. “I do not think I can bear another word from you without my heart bursting from all of this.”

“Good.” He grins, reaching up to smooth out her hair. “I love you, Seeker. You deserve the very best of me, and whilst my poetry might be rusty -”

“ _That’s_ rusty?”

“Well, I have another, but it’s a little more… _private_ ,” he murmurs, winking. “I’m saving that one for later.”

She burns, crimson despite the laughter, and he cups her chin with the crook of his finger as he steals another kiss. Quite how he got so lucky, he will never fathom.

* * *

 

Hawke’s speech is a more jovial affair.

“In case you didn’t know, Cassandra isn’t the first woman Varric wrote a book for,” she begins, leaning on his shoulder and grinning wide. “But she might very well be the only woman who got poetry, and _that’s_ what counts.”

“What about -”

“Limericks don’t count,” she laughs, “he got that Ostwick one from me!”

Bull’s roar of laughter drowns out the rest of the room, and it takes a considerable time for him to quieten once more.

“Honestly, though, I’ve known Varric for a long time, and you know what surprises me more than anything? How _effortless_ he makes shit look. Take Kirkwall! First day I ever met him, he stopped a mugger in his tracks and spun an arrow between his fingers without a care in the world.” She ruffles his hair at the memory. “I thought you were the slickest dwarf I’d ever met. So, of course, when he wrote to me to tell me about Corypheus, I assumed he had things pretty much in hand.”

“Oh, no.” Varric groans, shrinking into his seat.

“Imagine _my_ surprise when, upon my arrival, he drags me out the stables and into the inn without so much as a hello! See, I didn’t realise he’d been lying through his teeth to the Inquisition, so my reappearance was something of a disturbance to the rather sweet bond he’d been building up with his new darling.”

Cassandra laughs, short and sharp, before clapping a hand over her mouth. Hawke chuckles, draping an arm over her shoulders.

“Oh, you should have _seen_ him, Cass. Flipping between sullen and guilty for hours. I’d never seen him so undone. And you weren’t even together!” She smiles at her best friend. “I knew then that this was something special, something worth holding on to. And since then, you both proved me right. This whole wedding is classic Varric - roping in all your favours to get things done, making everything perfect without breaking stride for a second.” She smirks. “Well, _almost_ perfect. You didn’t get her an engagement ring, after all.”

Varric looks momentarily stricken. 

“Shit, you’re right. Seeker, c'mere.” And without hesitation, he removes his trademark gold chain, reaching up to put it on her. Around him, the group audibly gasp.

Cassandra reaches for his hands. “Varric, you did not have to -”

He presses a gentle kiss to her neck. “Not here. Later,” he whispers, before pulling back with a bright smile. “It’ll do,” he says aloud. “I’ve got a whole drawer full of ‘em.”

Hawke hesitates for a moment, before laughing. “Nevermind. You really _did_ make it perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WROTE A SONNET. ABOUT DRAGON AGE THINGS. AAAAAAAHHHHHHH okay I need to lie down.


	6. Part Five: The End

Festivities continue well into the night - after all, it was as much a goodbye as it was a new start. After seven separate apologies to Barris and no less than three attempts to avoid questions regarding ‘future heirs’, Cassandra manages to grab a moment to escape into the small gardens for a breath of fresh air, the cool dusk evening settling her. 

“So will you be taking his name?”

She smiles, a small wry thing as she turns to find Leliana in the shadows. “In a manner of speaking, Most Holy. It shall fit quite nicely after 'Calogera’ but before 'Seeker’, according to him.”

The woman laughs, coming into the light and embracing her friend. “Ah, of course. How silly of me to have not seen _that_ faultless logic.”

“Thank you for performing the ceremony. I admit, I am surprised you have the time.”

“For you? Always. It is not every day I preside over the marriage of the Queen of Nevarra, after all.” She takes her arm, the pair slowly making their way around the garden. “How do you feel about what is to come?”

Cassandra shrugs lightly. “Much as you did, I imagine. Many will look to me for answers, and I am not yet sure I have them. But… I suppose there are worse lives to lead.” She chuckles. “After everything we have been through, it is quite the change of pace.”

“No doubt. Be prepared for an unreasonable amount of paperwork.”

“And no Cullen to pass it off to. Shame.”

They laugh at that, reaching the end of the garden overlooking the sea. Leliana stops, smile sad as she presses a kiss to her dear friend’s cheek. “Let him look after you,” she murmurs, and Cassandra begins to reply -

“Cassandra?” She turns to find the Commander in silhouette in the doorway. “Your presence is requested by your husband.”

She cannot help the smile on her lips at that. _Husband_. “Give me a moment, I -” But the Divine is no longer by her side, gone like a ghost, and she lets out a soft sigh. Even with an honour guard, she could move with dangerous silence. “Never mind. I am coming.”

* * *

 

“Hawke, I appreciate it - _we_ appreciate it,” Varric corrects, looking pained. “But what am I supposed to do with a mabari? I’m a Marcher, you ass.”

She grins, holding the slobbery mess out to him. “You rear her, idiot. She’s a dog.”

Cassandra cannot stop the giggles that overcome her in the moment, leaning into Varric as she shakes with laughter. “Just when you thought we might be able to scrape together a modicum of decorum…”

“That ship has long sailed, Seeker, you married a dwarf days before taking the throne.”

“I warned them I would not be like other queens.”

“You really weren’t kidding.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hawke, you know I love you, but -”

“She’s special. Mabaris are the most loyal creatures in Thedas apart from you, Varric - _ow!_ Little shit!” Hawke rubs her hand as the pup scampers through the multitudes of legs to find the Commander. He raises an eyebrow, smiling as he is greeted with a wiggling tail.

“Hello there.” He kneels awkwardly in his dress armour to offer a hand, rewarded with an eager lick and a soft yip.

Cassandra smiles, turning to Hawke. “I think you have given me the perfect wedding present - my replacement.”

* * *

 

Before too long, it is Varric’s turn to slip into the cool night air, taking a deep breath. He had to admit, he was surprised the day had gone off without a hitch. 

Behind him, Myra rests a hand on his shoulder. “You throw a pretty good party, Varric. Skyhold’s going to be much quieter without you.”

He chuckles, turning to face her. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll be glad of the peace, I’m sure.”

“Are you kidding?” She shakes her head slightly. “End of an era. You and Cassandra were two of the first faces I saw when this all began. Along with… Solas.” At the mention of the elf they share a sombre look, but she continues. “Not sure if I can manage without my two favourite people.”

“Sweet-talker.” But he beckons her forward, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m sure Curly will console you quite thoroughly.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, “I’m trying to be sincere.”

“There’s a lot of that going around. Speaking of which -” He beams up at her as he pulls back. “Thank you.”

“Oh, Varric. You don’t need to -”

“No, trust me, I _do_.” He reaches up to smooth out her hair. “I haven’t forgotten what I said, you know, when I told you to run away. And I stand by it - you’re good people, Myra. But I’m glad you stayed. I don’t think anyone else could have pulled it off and kept us all alive.” He offers a crooked grin. “Hell, we were reckless idiots half the time, if you hadn’t been around we’d have died to the bears long ago.”

She smiles, lip shaking slightly as she tries to rein in the emotions of the night. Clearing her throat, she reaches for the safety of their patter. “Did she _really_ kill 78 bears?”

“I got Dorian to keep track if I wasn’t on the mission. You’ll read all about it in the book.”

“Oh, you’re writing again?”

“ _When Shit Got Real: The Inquisitor’s Story._ Working title, of course…”

* * *

 

It ends, as all good evenings must.

Cassandra sits by the vanity table, shedding herself of the accoutrements that Vivienne had adorned her with. Her fingers linger on the golden chain that sits on her collarbone. “Varric?”

“Hm?” He looks up, his gaze softening at the sight of her. “Look at you. Beautiful.”

She smiles at him in the mirror. “Flatterer.”

“Never. Well, occasionally,” he admits, standing up to cross over to her, hands coming to rest at her back. “But not this time. You are truly beautiful.”

“This chain… Varric, I cannot -”

He presses a kiss to the exposed skin above the chain. “My mother would have loved you, Seeker. She didn’t suffer fools gladly, either.”

“It was hers?”

“Yeah. And now it’s yours.”

She turns her head to find his, hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. There is so much she wants to say - she wants to tell him that she is honoured by everything he has done today, everything he has done since they met. She wants to tell him that one day their daughter will wear his mother’s chain with pride. Instead she kisses him, and settles for the most true thing she knows. “I love you,” she murmurs.

“My Seeker.” He smiles against her lips. “My wife.”

Her heart leaps in her chest, fingers threading into his hair. “I may never tire of hearing that.”

“Good. Now, about this dress…” His hand trails along her shoulderblade, and she shivers to the touch.

“On or off?”

He grins, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed as she lets out a delighted laugh. “Oh, definitely on. And then off. And then, _wife_ ,” he adds, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I’ll read you that poem as I make you come…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not QUITE the end... epilogue to come!


	7. Epilogue: The Dusk

The problem, he decides early on, is the distinct lack of freedom. Luckily for him, he is no stranger to the shadows.

* * *

 

Months pass.

He waits, counting under his breath. The guards were still, thankfully, predictable. Two, three, four steps, wait a beat, and around the corner… he straightens slightly, motioning with one hand for the woman behind him to follow.

“Varric -”

“ _Ssshhh_. Come on.”

They are quick, darting across the courtyard and in through the door with exuberant smiles - right up until the door closes behind them, the Crown Prince of Starkhaven clearing his throat with a smile.

“Fun evening?”

Hawke rolls her eyes as Varric throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, Chantry Boy, you got us. Just don’t tell -”

“ _Varric_.”

“- well, shit.”

Cassandra leans against the kitchen doorway, watching the pair for a long moment. She sighs, letting out a soft laugh. “Well, I suppose we should call off the search.”

“Indeed. Might I escort my wife to our chambers? We do have an early start, after all.”

“Seeker -”

“Of course. It has been a wonderful evening, Sebastian. As ever, your views on the reinstatement of the Book of Shartan fascinate me.”

He offers a bow, before offering an arm to a meek-looking Hawke as they head to the guest wing of the castle. Varric waves, before turning back to his wife with an explanation on his tongue.

“Look, I -”

She stops him with another laugh, soft and warm. “I know. I have _always_ known, my love. You were never supposed to feel trapped, so the guards never tell me, and I never ask. But… when you spirit away one our guests to play card games, people notice. _Especially_ when it is Hawke.”

He looks chastened but manages a smile. “We do tend to find trouble,” he admits, “but I was on my best behaviour.” She quirks an eyebrow up. “Well,” he amends, “almost-best. No bar fights.”

She rolls her eyes, but the smile lingers. “That is something, at least.”

“I’m not - Seeker, I’m not _unhappy_. I just… I’m not a noble. When I’m toe to toe with real people, I can see the cracks. I can _help_ them.” He reaches a hand out to her, beckoning to her. “You understand that, right? It’s not about _this_. Us. I just -”

“Oh, I know. Truly, I understand. I do not have to question where you come up with your ideas to aid our people, and I will _always_ support you.” She comes into the room, finding his warm embrace. “I am just glad you are safe.”

“You know me, Seeker. A line for every occasion and one eye on the exit at all times.”

“Still,” she muses, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “it would not do for the Prince Regent to perish before his first heir is born.”

“That _would_ be bad, yeah -” He stills, the room falling away for a long moment as he stares up at her. “You’re - Seeker, you -”

She cups his face in her hands, nodding. “I am.”

“We’re having -”

“We are.”

“Well, shit, why didn’t you _say_ something?” he laughs, grabbing her waist and spinning her around. “When? How?”

“Varric!” She giggles as he puts her back down. “You definitely know the ‘how’ of it.”

“That I do, wife. That I do.” He grins, a smile that makes her heart swell as he takes her hands in his. “ _Maker_ , I love you.”

“And I you, husband. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you for coming on this ridiculous journey with me. It was an idea given to me (literally) by an anon on Tumblr, and I'm really pleased with how it turned out... and apparently so are some of you guys! I have adored each and every comment, thank you thank you thank you!


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